Hidden Jewel
by Elinde
Summary: Elrond is hosting a Kings' Meet at Imladris but Eldarion keeps getting in the way. There are also doubts as to whether all invited will come. Rating for last chapter, just to be on the safe side. AU.
1. Eldarion's trap

**Disclaimer: characters and places belong to Tolkien, not me. AU.**

Note: In my universe, the three Elven rings became free after the One Ring was destroyed. This explains everything AU in this story, well, almost everything. The other AU is that Legolas didn't go to Ithilian. That is all.

* * *

Erestor, Chief Councillor to the lord Elrond and veteran of three wars, hung by his ankles, cursing his luck. A gust of wind made him swing and slowly revolve. That boy!

Glorfindel, laughing heartily at his friend's misfortune, ambled down the path towards him.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

"_Eldarion_ happened to me."

"You look like a bat!"

This was true, as Erestor's black hair and garments were obeying the force of gravity. Even so, the hem of his cloak was a good four feet above the ground. Erestor scowled at the Balrogslayer, trying to look as dignified as possible. This was not easy given the redness of his face and the nature of his predicament. He had been walking through Imladris' gardens when he put his foot straight into the trap set only a few hours before by the Prince of Gondor. The rope had tightened around his ankle and had jerked him upwards in the most un-noblelike manner. At first, he had thrashed around in mid air, trying to disentanglehis ankle, but to no avail. Eventually, swallowing his pride, he gave up and waited to be rescued. And who should find him but Glorfindel. All in all, things could be a lot better.

"I look nothing like a bat," a grumpy Erestor informed his friend. "And don't start laughing! You wouldn't be if _you_were hanging from a tree." He sighed a long, pained sigh. "I thought we'd seen the last of this when Aragorn left." The pair shivered at the memories of a nine-year-old human wreaking havoc in the Last Homely House, with the aid of the Peredhil's diaries from when they were that age.

"It's hardly surprising that Eldarion is a minx at this age," Glorfindel remarked, drawing his knife and cutting the rope. Erestor fell to the ground with a bump. Rubbing his temple, the councillor glared at the Balrog slayer, who was pretending to be completely oblivious. Deciding that it was pointless in glaring at the back of a head, Erestortried to undo the tight knot which had kept the rope securely on his ankle. The blood rushing from his head prevented his success. He put his head in his hands and groaned as the pounding in his temples increased.

"I'll tell you something," Glorfindel said, turning to face Erestor with a worried expression, "it's a good thing this didn't happen to Thranduil, isn't it?" Erestor looked up, confused. Glorfindel regarded his friend, an I-can't-believe-you-don't-immediately-know-why! expression on his face. Erestor's eyes grew considerably wider as he remembered.

"Mae," was all he could say in answer. "We'd better make sure he doesn't do something similar during the days of the Kings' Meet." This title was not entirely accurate, as not all those in attendance were in fact kings.

"Mind you, it would be _mildly amusing _to see a bucket of ashes fall on top of Lady Galadriel." Glorfindel smirked at his mental image. "Maybe we shouldn't prevent the lad from having some fun after all. It'll be pretty boring for him otherwise. Dear me, I wonder how well the dust will come out of her oh-so-white garments!" Erestor held his head again as Glorfindel's laughter grew louder and louder.

"However hilarious that might be," Erestor cut in, "what if falling down three flights of hard, _stone_ steps knocks the last ounce of sanity out of Thranduil's head?"

"Do you think he will come?"Glorfindel asked in surprise. The prank, unfortunately, had been pulled on him on various occasions and was therefore unworthy of comment.

"All the other rulers are."

But Glorfindel shook his head.

"He only just came to the White Council. Gandalf and Galadriel nigh on had to drag him all the way- I wish I'd been there. Why would he come this time?"

"Maybe he's changed since then-"

"For the _better_? Nay, that day shall never come."

"And why should he come anyway?" Erestor butted in. "Just because he is a king doesn't mean that he has to make public appearances unwillingly."

"No, and he makes sure we all know it. When was the last time you saw him?"

Erestor cocked his head in thought.

"I don't know. 1500 years ago, perhaps."

"Exactly! And Elrond is supposed to be a good friend-"

"Elrond sees him regularly. They meet on the plains of the Wilderland, don't you remember him saying? Besides, he can't just walk away from his duties whenever he feels like it. When he was a prince, he visited us, in Lindon as well as Imladris, at least once a decade. And before you say anything it is a long way from Greenwood to practically anywhere. Don't you remember that?"

"Frankly no. Some of us were still in the halls of waiting!" Glorfindel pursed his lips as he phrased his thoughts. "Aragorn and Éomer have come, Celeborn and Galadriel will come, Thorin and Bard and the four Hobbits will probably come but Thranduil will _not _come. And now Thranduil has no excuse. He is _not _stuck on the wrong side of an ever darkening forest, as he had written in the past. If Legolas comes alone, I'll- Argh!"

Erestorfelt uneasy; not only about what Glorfindel was saying but also about the fact that he, Erestor, had so quickly forgotten about Glrofindel's long absence.

"It's his call, Glorfindel. And if, in the end, he does not come you shall not, I repeat: _shall not! _inform him of your displeasure. We do not know the reason for his absence." _He's permanently teetering on the brink of The Cliff of Sanity and if you push him to hard he'll fall off, as I have already made plain. _He thought. "You may well make a fool of yourself!" He said out loud.

Glorfindel grudgingly agreed and Erestor prayed to the Valar that the 'Sindar Jewel' would show himself.

oOo

Eldarion could have danced for joy as he collected the length of now cut rope. He had fooled someone! No matter how many times his traps worked, the boy always relished in this special form of glory. He wondered who it had been. Usually, it was just one of the household staff; but sometimes it was someone more impressive like Daerada. But it couldn't have been him this time, for he had been in a boring council meeting all morning.

"So! It _was _you!" The voice from behind him startled the boy. Eldarion span round, dropping the rope in surprise.

"Did you step in my trap, Erestor?" He asked, bashfully.

Erestor strode towards the boy.

"Mae." Erestor shook his head in exasperation. "A fortnight, _that's _how long you have been here and you have aleady laid 30 traps. That's more that two a day! Le ú-caro ad sen!" He chided, picking up the discarded rope as he spoke. The boy looked up at the Elf-lord, his expression the picture of innocence.

"Why, Erestor? You aren't hurt, are you?"

Erestorsnorted at this, immediatly wishing he hadn't afterwards, and dropped the rope into the child's hands. He knelt so he was at the same level as the boy before speaking.

"You do know about the Kings' Meet, don't you?" Eldarionnodded. "There will be a lot of people doing a lot of important things and the last thing they need is to be held up or hurt by one of your practical jokes. Is that clear?" Eldarion nodded again. "Pardon?"

"Mae." Eldarion mumbled.

"Are you sure? For if anything like this," he gestured towards the rope, "happens during that time, you will not be allowed to speak with them. That's another fortnight's worth of jokes at least, don't forget." His tone was becoming more and more icy as he realised how slim the chances of a well behaved Eldarion actually were.

Eldarion's lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

"But you said they'd like to talk to me. You said that if I made a good impression I might be able to visit them in their realms. You said nearly all the rulers would be coming; and maybe the fellowship too. If I can't see them, I might never have a chance to speak to the rulers in the North again."

Erestor relented slightly.

"Come now, you're blowing it all out of proportion. This will by no means be the only opportunity to see anyone, and you fate is by no means sealed. I'll tell you what we'll do: you'll put that rope back where you found it and we'll say no more about it."

Eldarion's expression changed faster than Erestorcould blink. With a smile on his face that nearly reached both ears, he launched himself at the councillor. He flung his arms around Erestor and buried his face in his cloak.

"Hannon le, hannon le a thousand times!" He cried, his voiced muffled by the fabric.

"Hurry then, before I change my mind."

Eldarion let go of Erestor and ran up the path, where to Erestor did not know.

"_I'm going to see the horsemen's-king who rules over the plains,"_

the boy 'chanted',

_"I'm going to see the Wizard who goes there and back again._

_I'm going to see the Dwarf-king who is good at making toys._

_I'm going to see the king who rules a town that'__s full of joy._

_I'm going to see the rulers who rule under mallorn trees_

_But most of all the Elvenking who's very hard to please!"_

_

* * *

_**Translations:**

_Daerada _**– **Granddad

_Le ú-caro ad sen! __**–**_You must not do this again. I'm not sure about the grammar on this so if it's wrong, please tell me.


	2. The rulers' arrival

Celeborn sighed with relief. It had been a long journey for him and his spouse from Lothlórien to Imladris, but happily it would soon be over. All that now lay between him and a large goblet of fine wine was courtesy, in this instance notifying Elrond of their arrival. Their son-in-law's study was only a few paces away. Celeborn could not believe that the journey was about to be over and that there had been no mishaps along the way. He reached the door. Savouring the moment, he flexed his shoulders before delicately placing his hand on the handle and pushing the door open.

Three pounds of flour covered the Elf-lord from head to foot, followed shortly by a bucket that fitted the Elf's head perfectly. Celeborn had only just escaped from his wooden prison when he sneezed four times in quick succession. The conclusion of Galadriel, standing just behind her husband, was that their great-grandson's trap had been successful. Celeborn, however, failed to see the funny side as he brushed the flour from his face with an equally floury sleeve. Irritably, he threw the bucket out into the corridor before investigating the state of his now slightly off-white robes.

_It could have been worse, muin-nín. _Galadriel soothed. _At least flour is edible. _

"That makes no diffirence; I'm still covered in it."

_At least you aren't wearing black; it would have looked a lot worse if you had been. And besides, it's only your travelling clothes, not your robes of state, which have been covered._

"My hair! How, exactly, am I going to get this stuff out of my _hair_?"

_I am sure you'll think of something._

Celeborn sighed inwardly. In his heart of hearts, he had known that the peace was too good to last.

"And how did _you_ avoid this... this... _predicament_?" He spat at the utterly flour free Elrond, whom he'd just spotted behind the desk.

"I..."

"Were you in here when it was set?"

"No."

"Or did you set it yourself?"

"No!" Elrond blushed a little. "I used the other door."

Celeborn noted, with a stiff jaw, the presence of the second door that lead from the study to the maze of small corridors which made up the 'back streets' of the Last Homely House.

"If you did not do this deed then who did, pray?"

"Eldarion," Elrond and Galadriel answered in unison.

"Well, at least that makes sense even if I am not pleased to hear it," he muttered. "Is it beyond Elessar and Evenstar to raise a child well? Anyway, enough of that... It's good to see you after so long," he continued, making to step out of the puddle of flour that had accumulated around his feet and to shake Elrond's hand.

"No! No, Celeborn, I'll come to you!" Elrond exclaimed, imagining the effect of the flour on his ornate rug. Celeborn halted and, if he felt indignant, he had the grace not to show it for Elrond's rug was a thing of beauty. The Half-Elf let his tensed muscles relax as the danger passed: he knew only too well that if Thranduil had been in Celeborn's place the king would have pretended to jump onto the rug and then would have laughed heartily at the terror in his friend's eyes. But Eldu was most definitely _not _there.

_Celeborn is no trickster, _Galadriel told him in thought.

_I never said he was..._

_And neither is the Elf-king. _

_Are you mad? _Elrond exclaimed. _He's almost as bad as Elros was! _

Galadriel merely smiled and stepped backwards into the corridor. The reason soon made itself apparent: Eldarion streaked along the passage, saw Galadriel, swerved to one side, saw the bucket, tried to change course again unsuccessfully and went flying. Deftly, Galadriel picked him up, dusted him down and spun him round to face the Elf-lords.

"I think you have an apology to give Heru Celeborn," she whispered. As ever Eldarion's face was the picture of innocence but that wasn't going to work this time. Celeborn pulled himself up to his full height and glared down his nose at his great grandson. Unfortunately it is hard to look impressive when one is blanketed in flour. It is made even worse when the wrong-doer cannot help but point this out to his aggressor.

Elrond excused himself early on in the proceedings on the pretence of 'having other business to attend to'. This was not a complete lie; after the mound of paperwork he had been sorting out and the 'incident', as Celeborn would call it for months after, he felt he was in dire need of a goblet of potent wine. Celeborn could sort himself out.

He slipped past Galadriel, who gave him a knowing wink, and strode off down the corridor. He swept right by the pair of glinting eyes hiding in the shadows and would not have noticed them at all had the Elf not called out to him.

"Don't worry, my lord, your secret is safe with me."

_Valar forbid that this event should remain secret! _Elrond thought, sarcastically. "If one other person hears of this, I shall come down on you like a tonne of rocks. Do I have your word that this secret shall remain so, Glorfindel?"

"Soldier's word!" Glorfindel answered before scuttling off to find Erestor.

"Glorfindel!"Elrond shouted after him but the Elf paid no heed. _Give it a day. _He thought gloomily.

Throughout the second half of his journey, the other trying episodes of that morning caused him to doubt that there would be anything in the wine cellar when he got there.

_I'll probably find that Thranduil _has_ come. He's probably sneaked in, sneaked around and sneaked out again, taking the wine with him! _

But Elrond's melancholy predictions proved false; the only strange think he found in the cellar were the twins sitting under the table. Ironically, they were hiding from Eldarion and his pranks. They were swiftly removed with the order to

"Get a taste of your own medicine!"

oOo

The door slammed shut behind their father. The Peredhil stood gazing at it, willing their why-have-you-been-so-unreasonable? eyes to pierce the wood and bore into Elrond's back. It didn't work. Elrohir sucked in his cheeks and gazed first at the door, then at his twin.

"What do we do now?"

"We find Eldarion."

"Why?"

"The closer we are to trouble, the further we are from harm."

"Oh." Elrohir was still trying to figure out what that meant when Elladan grabbed his arm and dragged him to the courtyard before the main entrance, keeping his eyes peeled for any traps along the way.

The courtyard was bustling for Thorin and Bard had just arrived. Erestor had taken the responsibility of welcoming them to Imladris and he now greatly wished he hadn't. The three persons were having a loud discussion and as the twins approached they were able to hear what was being said.

"He said he would be coming later. He just doesn't want to ride with a dwarf because it would 'spoil his image'!"

"Did he really say that?"

"Well, no, but he may as well have done. He gave me that look when we asked, the one that says 'You are low life. Get out before you give me a disease.' The stuck up-"

"He has no such look!"

"Maybe not for you."

"Thorin, stop reading into things that aren't there."

"See! Now you're at it! All Elves are the same."

"Thorin, please."

"Maybe I should cut off all his hair while he's sleeping. Then who'll be laughing?"

"He's been in this mood all the way from the Greenwood." Bard supplied.

Erestor counted to ten before speaking.

"Even if the Dwarves and the Elves were the firmest of friends his answer would have still been the same. It's not you he dislikes; it's foreign company."

Thorin grumbled at this but said no more.

"Isn't that childish?" Bard asked.

"Mae. Completely childish."

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other in puzzlement.

"Who are they talking about?" Elladan whispered.

"Thranduil, I think."

"That's what I thought, but Uncle isn't-"

"-like that." Elrohir finished.

Erestor came over to them, a distracted look in his eyes.

"Where is everyone else?" He asked. "It isn't my job to meet and greet our guests."

"Adar's in the wine cellar, we were as well until recently and Glorfindel is around somewhere."

"Stay here and watch for visitors." Erestor ordered and hurried into the house before they had a chance to object.

oOo

"I've done nothing wrong!" Eldarion wailed.

"You have covered me in flour, now apologise and no more will be said on the matter." Celeborn answered.

"_No!_"

"Just say 'sorry' and we can all be friends again."

Eldarion said nothing but his bottom lip began to tremble. Celeborn waited for the boy to calm down, but he didn't. Instead, his eyes grew moist.

"Eldarion?"

"_Cele!_" The boy screamed, pushing hard on Celeborn's stomach. The Elf-lord fell backwards in surprise while the prince of Gondor tore off along the corridor, heading for the main entrance and the woodland beyond. He ran straight across the courtyard, scattering people and spooking the horses. But he didn't care, he kept running. Eventually, the noise of the pandemonium behind him was swallowed up by the trees. He finally stopped in a small glade high up on the slopes of the dell. All was silent save for his breathing.

oOo

Dusk was slowly falling on Imladris. Many of the Elves were stood in the gardens or on balconies enjoying the mellow light. Thorin, followed by Aragorn, weaved around them, gazing into their blissful, unmoving faces.

"They all look to me as if they were dead," he said, uneasily. "Not one have I seen blink yet." Aragorn laughed.

"They are not dead, my friend, merely in a trance brought on by the beauty of this evening. As for not blinking they sleep with their eyes open anyway. I would think one dead if they had not opened their eyes for a whole night."

"But I have seen Galion asleep with his eyes closed before now."

"Did he have a flagon of wine beside him?" Aragorn asked, his voice laced with mirth. The Dwarven-king gave the Man a sidelong glance before laughing his deep fruity laugh. Not even this stirred the Elves from their waking slumbers.

A few members of the Elven kindred was still moving however. One of which was Arwen, who was becoming more and more distraught as here search lengthened. Eventually she made her way onto the balcony where her husband and Thorin had finally stopped walking. Aragorn knew immediately that something was wrong.

"What is it, my star?"

"Have you seen Eldarion?" She asked frantically.

"No, I thought he was with you."

"I can't find him anywhere!" Arwen wailed. Aragorn felt a large lump form in his throat. As he spoke it threatened to choke him.

"Have you looked absolutely everywhere?"

"Mae! And he's not here!" She let out a sob.

"Keep calm, my love, he can't have got far. We'll ask you father and brothers if they have seen him. Come." Taking her by the hand, he led her quickly through the house to the Hall of Fire. Sure enough, they found Éomer, Bard and Arwen's family seated there. Aragorn stood before them, still holding Arwen's hand tightly. Thorin stood behind them, for the moment forgotten.

"Arwen cannot find Eldarion anywhere in this house after hours of searching," Aragorn said, speaking slowly. "Does anyone here know where he might be?"

The Men and elder Elves looked black, but the Peredhil seemed to be stunned.

"We saw him run through the courtyard and out beyond the walls of the house," Elladan stated, "He was running too fast for anyone to catch him. This happened soon after Thorin and Bard's arrival."

"But t-that was this m-morning!" Arwen stammered, "He could b-be anywhere by now!"

"And any_thing _could be out there with him," Thorin whispered into the terrified silence.


	3. Rescue

Elrond took control of the situation. "Arwen and Thorin shall stay here. The rest of us shall ride out and try to find him immediately. We shall search in pairs, that way we can cover more ground. Let us get ready to leave."

"And why should I have to stay behind?" Thorin asked.

"Well, you're not exactly the best rider," Glorfindel muttered. Thorin growled at the insult.

Elrond, painfully aware of the time they were wasting, intervened. "You have a large heart, Thorin. Out of all of us, you, Aragorn and Arwen are the best people for Eldarion to find should he come back here before we do, but Aragorn we cannot spare. You shall be doing a valiant job, I can assure you." Thorin puffed out his chest and agreed to stay. The search party began their quest a matter of minutes after.

oOo

Eldarion hadn't noticed the sky getting darker and darker until now: he had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Only too well did he know that he should apologise to Celeborn for the trap, but in doing so he would be admitting that he had set it. Erestor had told him that if he didn't behave, he wouldn't be allowed to see the dignitaries from afar, but he just hadn't been able to resist it, and it had worked so well! Celeborn had been covered with flour; it wasn't even as if flour wouldn't come out of the fabric. That fact didn't matter, he would still be punished. He would be told to go to his room and stay there. Normally he didn't mind, for his bedroom in Imladris was one of the larger ones in the house, but even from his balcony he wouldn't be able to see the kings and queens. So far, he had met Éomer and he thought he had run past Thorin and Bard but he couldn't be sure. He hadn't yet seen the Elvenking.

The prince of Gondor had had it all planned out. When he heard of the Edheleran's arrival, he would run as fast as he could to the archway that led into the courtyard. There he would stand, and he would be the first person the king would see. And, more importantly, his smile would make the king laugh, thus forming the beginnings of friendship: a similar tactic had worked with Éomer. The boy had been practicing the sprint to the archway from various parts of the house, greatly irking the Elves that he knocked over. He had got it down to under a minute when starting in the gardens beyond the waterfall. Now he had made sure that all his efforts had been in vain.

He curled up into a whimpering ball and eventually cried himself to sleep. The night grew older and the air began to fill with the calls of the night creatures. Frogs croaked, insects clicked and whirred and rodents and hoofed animals disturbed the undergrowth. A strong breeze made the trees howl and creak. Its long fingers picked up locks of Eldarion's dark hair and threw it away from his face, waking him. It dried the tears that had leaked from his eyes. But most of all it chilled him. His tunic and kirtle were light, for it was still warm during the day down at the bottom of the valley. He shivered violently and felt utterly miserable. The prince knew that he should make his way back to Imladris but that would mean getting up and letting the cruel wind reach more of him, besides, he did not know the way. If he didn't move soon, he might die.

oOo

"He can't have got this far!"

"Never underestimate you quarry."

"Don't call him that!" Erestor exclaimed, pulling his thick woollen cloak tighter around him.

"Elves do not feel the cold," Glorfindel said, watching his companion carefully.

"It is not what is outside that chills me, it is the thought that Eldarion is lost. He's just a child."

"He's half ranger, Erestor, never forget that."

"But even Aragorn never had to deal with the cold when he was so young." Erestor was on the verge of tears.

"Even so, the prince shall come to no harm. We'll find him," Glorfindel soothed, spurring Asfaloth into trot.

oOo

"Why does Rivendell have to be so steep? The horses aren't used to it and it hinders our progress."

"_It shall also hinder Eldarion. If the land was flat, he may be leagues away and still be running. At least the slope will have tired him out pretty quickly._"

"Mae. He shall be completely unable to defend himself should he find himself in danger!"

Galadriel had no answer to that.

oOo

"Remind me never to have children," Bard muttered as his horse splashed through yet another stream, spraying him with water.

"No wonder my ancestors left their home in the North."

"Why?"

"Those who stayed are always grumbling," Éomer chided.

"Ha! You think _I _moan! Maybe you should visit Dale and see firsthand what I'm up against." Éomer looked puzzled. "I'm stuck between Thorin and Thranduil."

"Thorin seems to be a very live affirming person," Éomer said.

"Not when Thranduil's around. Och, you should have heard him on the way here. I was trying to think of a convincing excuse to ride alone throughout the journey!" Éomer began laughing. "It's not funny!"

"It's the way you tell it." Bard glared at the Lord of the Mark.

"Anyway, all this talking isn't helping us find Master Eldarion." He muttered. Éomer shook his head and the pair continued in silence.

oOo

Elladan and Elrohir were on foot, leading their horses along the track that ran alongside the Bruinnen. It was the easiest path to follow, apart from the road, and was therefore a likely route for Eldarion to take. However, the twins were becoming more and more convinced that Eldarion had not followed it.

"If _I_ was running away from Imladris, where would _I_ go?" Elrohir thought out loud.

"Not along here, obviously," Elladan muttered.

"I would run through the archway, follow the path east for a while and then, as soon as I could, get under cover."

"Why east?"

"There's more to the East."

"Is there?" Elrohir stared exasperatedly at his twin.

"_Mae._"

"But would Eldarion think so?"

"Probably," Elrohir answered after a while of thinking, "Gondor lies beyond the Gap of Rohan after all." Elladan nodded in agreement.

"So he _would _have gone east too." He stated.

Silence.

"Either way, we're not going to find him, for sure as my name's 'Elrohir' he didn't come this way."

"What if he did? We can't abandon our instructions, for Eldarion's sake."

"We're going the wrong way-"

"_What if we aren't?" _Elladan countered. "Look, let us search the route we were told to search. After all we aren't, by any means, the only party looking for Eldarion. _Someone _will find him before it's too late."

oOo

"I've taught him too well; he has left barely a trace for us to follow." Aragorn straightened and brushed the dirt from his knees. He scanned the ground one last time: nothing. He turned back to Elrond, who was holding Tawarosp and Brego. "What are we to do?"

"We have only one choice: to keep searching until he is found, living or...dead." Aragorn sighed distractedly. Unshod tears made his eyes shine more than usual.

"My poor boy," He whispered. "I can't do this!"

"You must do this, or Eldarion will surely perish."

"And if we keep trying?"

"If everyone travelling in Rivendell tonight keeps trying then he shall come to no lasting harm." Aragorn's not was almost unperceivable, but it was there. Elrond handed him Brego's reins. The duo mounted and continued their search into the woodland.

oOo

He could hear agitated voices from every corner of Rivendell from where he stood at the top of the valley side. Something had gone amiss, as usual. Once again, he wondered why he had come, then remembered: it was one of his more annoying duties. At least he knew the valley well. As for the problem, if he found it in his way he would care, if he didn't he wouldn't. If he reached Imladris and found that he _did_ in fact care about the problem whether he happened to stumble upon it or not he would set out again and try to help, but otherwise he would spend the remainder of the night in the gardens. With thoughts of the later in his mind, he clicked his tongue and his horse set off down into the valley.

oOo

Faint calls of 'Eldarion', 'Ion-nín', and 'stupid child' filtered up to the boy's ears. He sat up, the wind forgotten. He was being looked for! But they would never find him.

"_I'M HERE!_" He yelled as loudly as he could. "_PLEASE HURRY! I'M COLD!" _His only answer was the echo off the trees. Fear choked him. What if he was never found? What if they were still angry with him and did not mean to find him? What if their voices had been a trick of the wind? Currently, it was pretending to be the howling of wolves, wolves that were edging closer and closer.

oOo

Eleven ears heard the howls that Eldarion had dismissed as tricks of the wind. Eleven beings froze.

_Wargs!_

oOo

Eldarion wasn't so sure that the howls were tricks of the wind any more. They were growing louder and more menacing. He wanted to get up and wanted to stay still.

_Maybe I can outrun them! Maybe they won't see me! Maybe they are after me because I called out just now! Oh! Please, Námo, I don't want to die! _

A twig snapped close to him. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He heard heavy breathing, smelt putrid breath. He half opened one eye. Five enormous wolves stood in the clearing, gazing hungrily at him.

"You're not there," he mumbled, "You can't be there." He closed his eyes. "They aren't there. They can't be there." He reopened his eyes.

The wolves werenearer and now there were more, with more appearing from the trees all the time. The foremost beasts were inching forwards, saliva dripping from their mouths. Eldarion shook with terror. Nothing worked. He tried to get up but his limbs refused to move. He couldn't look away from the closest beast's face. Its eyes were hypnotic, preventing its prey from moving. But, to his surprise, Eldarion found that he could still open his mouth and scream.

The wolves cowered at the sound and scanned their surroundings for potential threats. When none immediately appeared they relaxed and directed their gazes upon Eldarion once more. That was to be their undoing.

In just a few seconds, a white horse burst out of the trees and charged the wolves. The rider beheaded the largest, turned his steed, and ran at Eldarion. The prince panicked but before he could move a strong arm came down, picked him up by the scruff and dropped him unceremoniously on the horse's withers.

"Do not mess around, they are after us," a brusque voice instructed him from under the largest, most battered hat Eldarion had ever seen. "Face forwards and hold on for dear life!" Eldarion did as instructed.

The great mare sprang away with the whole pack of wolves hot on her tail.

"An lanthir," the Elf, for so was the rider's race, whispered to his steed.

"The waterfall? Why are we going there?"

"Hush."

"How shall we see the edge?"

"Dîn!" The Elf hissed. Eldarion obeyed and sat still, watching the trees come racing towards him thick and fast. But every time he was about to call out the horse swerved and avoided the tree with a few inches to spare. After a while, when the sound of wolf howls grew slightly less, Eldarion plucked up the courage to ask the stranger a burning question.

"Sir, are you the Edheleran?" The Elf breathed in deeply.

"Mae."

Eldarion's face lit up. "Oh, good! I thought I would never get to see you, what with the trap I made and Celeborn getting covered in flour and-"

"Do you ever stop talking?" Thranduil asked, though inside he was laughing loudly at the mental image of Celeborn covered in flour.

Sooner that Eldarion could have imagined possible, the noise of falling water reached his ears.

"I can hear the waterfall!" He exclaimed.

"By the Valar, your hearing leaves something to be desired," Thranduil replied.

"Hannon-le."

"Hush now, I need to concentrate."

The waterfall was coming closer at a terrifying rate. Eldarion could just about make out the precipice in the gloom.

_Please, Sire, stop! We'll go over the edge! _Eldarion screamed inside his head, but he dared not say anything out loud lest the distraction be the death of them. His grip on the mare's mane became tighter and tighter as the cliff came closer and closer. Thranduil kept his horse at a gallop, not slowing, not faltering. _He's mad! He's completely barking mad! _Eldarion wept. He waited for the weightless feeling one gets when falling. But it never came.

Just as Eldarion thought they were running on air, Thranduil yanked hard on the left rein. The mare swerved left, dislodged stones skittering down the sheer drop as her hooves clipped the edge. The Wargs were not so lucky. It was far too late for them to do anything by the time they noticed the cliff. The very first beasts slowed but were pushed over by those behind them. The others relied on those in front to warn them of trouble and they therefore plummeted to their deaths too. The air rang with their yelps and death howls and the sound of ripping flesh and breaking bones as they crashed onto the rocks before tumbling into the pool. The river ran red that night. Eldarion peered over the brink but was pulled roughly back by Thranduil.

_"Do not look. _It shall not be pretty," he hissed.

When the air was silent once more, Thranduil breathed out and released his grip on Eldarion. The boy's terrified eyes stared at the king who was rubbing his horse's neck.

"Maer sell, Eryn, maer sell," he repeated. He felt the child's gaze on him and smiled slightly. "I suppose you wish to go home, penneth."

"Yes."

Thranduil nodded and turned Eryn away from the cliff edge and down into the valley towards Imladris.

oOo

As the howls had increased, all five search parties had slowly returned to Imladris. The ten scouts, Thorin and Arwen had reassembled in the Hall of Fire. None spoke. Aragorn was as silent as the grave. Arwen wept uncontrollably in a corner. The intrusion of a stable hand with the news that Thranduil had arrived was given no respect. In fact, the Elf retreated quite taken aback. The very slightly uneven click of heels did not cause them to stir. The gentle knock on the door received only a grunt from Elrond.

All eyes looked up as the door opened. In stepped a hatless Thranduil followed by beaming Eldarion, who was finding it difficult to see as Oropher's old hat was too large for him.

_I meth_

* * *

I was going to write about everyone's reactions but I think that this quiet ending is better. Besides, everyone knows that there will be celebrations all round, so I don't really need to put that in, do I? :-)

Translations:

_Dîn_ **–** Silence

_Maer sell_ **– **Good girl

_Penneth_ **– **Little one


End file.
